Authors Note: This story came from a chat I was having with an online friend. She also wrote the line, Rachelangel, wherever you are, I hope you found the help you needed.

This story contains INCEST fellatio, MF intercourse, MF sodomy, spanking and mild D/s, and DD/lg. If you don’t enjoy this kind of smut, please choose another story.

“Welcome to New York. The local time is 6:19 pm. The outside temperature is 78 degrees Fahrenheit.” The announcement woke me from my slumber. I must have been tired. A lot had happened in the last 24 hours.

I was finishing up some reports and was ahead of my never-ending paperwork for once. I stretched my arms and was about to sign the last form in my inbox when I heard the 1MC come to life. I winced as the BMOW blew his pipe, almost on key for once, “Cdr. Gemoules please report the commanding officers at sea cabin, Cdr. Gemoules please report the commanding officers at sea cabin.”

“Ohhh, Diamond is in trouble,” called out one of my squadrons pilots.

“Stow it, Punch-out. It’s probably about that last trap of yours. A flying pig could’ve landed with more finesse than you.”

“The rest of the pilots started laughing at my retort as I left my squadron’s ready room and made my way through the aircraft carriers maze of passageways to the C.O.’s cabin. I knocked on the door and heard “Enter”

I entered the space, popped to attention and said “Cdr. Gemoules reporting as ordered skipper.”

“Have a seat Gem.” The skipper told me.

As I sat I nodded to my XO and the chaplain, were already seated. “What’s going on skipper? Who died?” I ask, expecting to be told that one of my pilots crashed, or one of my swabbies had been knocked overboard during flight ops. I watched the three men pass a glance around the room like the Harlem Globetrotters passing a basketball.

“Gem, we don’t know how to tell you this.” Began the chaplain.

“It’s Allyson.” The skipper interrupts. “She was killed in a car accident.”

My heart stops. I can barely see or think. My beloved but estranged wife was dead. I can’t even voice my thoughts. My XO looks at me and says “Rachel is alright. She wasn’t in the car.” “My daughter is alive,” I say not sure if I was asking for confirmation or just parroting what they told me.

“Emergency leave is approved effective as soon as the next COD is ready to launch, around 1900.” The skipper says. “Take your time. When you’re ready, go pack. Your XO can run the Squadron for you.”

I nod my head trying to figure out what is going to happen next. The skipper and my XO leave me alone with the chaplain. We sit in silence for a few minutes as I try to work through my disbelief that my wife is dead before her fortieth birthday. “Thanks, padre, but I don’t need you right now.” I stand up and walk to my stateroom. I pick up the phone and call the goat locker. Some chief I didn’t know answers. “This is CDR Gemoules. Is Chief Duggan there?”

“Yes, sir here he is.”

“Duggan here sir.”

“Dug come to my stateroom and bring your friend Jack with you,” I order him.

“Sir...”

“Now chief!” I say sharply and slam down the phone. I sit down on my rack and wait for the chief. After an eternity in hell, there’s a knock on the hatch. “Come,” I shout.

Dug enters my stateroom like a recruit called before his company commander. He stands rigidly at attention and says, “Chief Duggan reporting as ordered, with a party of 1. SIR.” I notice the toolbag in his left hand, “Secure the hatch, Dug, cups are in the desk.” Duggan closes the hatch taking care to lock it and takes two ships coffee mugs out of my desk. Then he reaches into the tool bag and takes out a bottle of Johnny Walker Black.

“Pour me a few fingers, and feel free to pour for yourself too.” He pours about 3 fingers of Johnny into the cups and hands one to me.

“Sir, since I’m your bartender now, I gotta ask, what the hell? You never drink when we’re underway, especially when you’re scheduled for night ops.”

“Allyson was killed in an accident. I’m flying out on the next COD.” I slam back the drink and feel it burn down my throat, grateful that I can feel something, anything besides the numbness that had washed over me when I first heard the news.

“Jesus sir! Is Rachel all right?” He asks as he pours me another four fingers.

“I don’t know. I mean I was told she wasn’t in the car. But... , “ as I throw back the second drink like it was a sip of water.

“Thank god for that,” Duggan says as he takes his first sip. “What is she now fifteen? sixteen?”

“Eighteen today. Fucking great way to celebrate becoming an adult, your mom fucking dying.” I say in anger as I hurl the mug across my stateroom he porcelain shattering when it hits the bulkhead. Dug picks up the most recent picture I had of Rachel. She was 11 years old and waving at me as the carrier I was on was heading out to sea. It was my third deployment in three years, and the last time I had seen her.

“I haven’t had any contact with her since that day, I nod at the picture Dug was holding. Thinks would be so different if that jarhead had been paying attention. How the fuck he mistook my Eagle for a MIG... , “ I shook my head to stop that line of thought. I’d been over it too many times.

“Ally came to see me in the hospital, telling me that she couldn’t take worrying about me dying anymore. It was her or the Navy. I didn’t think she was serious. I figured once I was out of the hospital and back home recuperating, things would go back to normal.” I grabbed the bottle and took a healthy swig. When I put it down, Dug leaned back on my desk effectively blocking my access to the bottle.

The day before I was discharged, she handed me two letters she had the family lawyer draw up. One was a letter to SECNAV resigning my commission, the other was a separation agreement. She told me I had to sign one of those letters before I left the hospital or I would not be allowed to live in her house. I refused to sign them, and that was the last time I saw Ally. I tried to write and call Rachel, but Ally returned everything I sent Rachel. Every year at Christmas and her birthday, I send Rachel a package with all the letters and gifts that she hasn’t gotten, hoping it gets to her. I just mailed it again last week.”

Dug had been listening quietly to me while sipping his drink. I reach for the bottle and he grabs my arm. He looks into my eyes and shakes his head. “You’ve had enough sir. The last thing you need is for anyone to see you drunk.”

I look at him knowing he was right. I nod my head and give him a little smile, as he puts the bottle back in the tool bag. “Sir if there’s anything that me or anyone in the squadron can do just ask,” he tells me as he puts his hand on the hatch.

“I appreciate that chief, but don’t say anything until I’m airborne. I don’t want to see any of those ‘poor bastard’ looks.”

The chief pops to attention and shouts “Aye-Aye sir!”

I chuckle at his booter reaction “Thanks for the drink, but you better stow that contraband chief, you wouldn’t want anyone to know about it would you.” The chief laughs, as he leaves my stateroom.

I pull out my seabag and start to toss in the essentials. My dress and undress uniforms, a few sets of civvies and some toiletries. I look at my watch and see it’s about 1600. Not really feeling hungry, but not having anything else to do, I head up to the wardroom and try to choke down a couple of sliders. But the smell makes me want to vomit, even more than usual. I wander up to the hanger and check on my aircraft. My plane captain is going over a preflight checklist, making sure my bird is ready for flying tonight. I walk over and call, “Flynn!”

He looks at me, as he pats the nose. “She’s just about ready sir.”

“Good to know, but I’m taking some leave, so she won’t be flying for a bit. Go ahead and schedule that engine rebuild you’ve been bugging me about.”

“I’ll get it done sir. She’ll be ready for you when you get back. Have a good trip, sir.” he says as he returns to his checklist.

I see my XO standing by his bird, so I walk over to him and discuss some issues he’ll be dealing with while I’m gone. As we talk, the 1MC blares to life and I hear “Commander Gemoules please call pri-fly” I grab the nearest phone and call.

“Hey Diamond,” the CAG answers “The COD’s leaving early. It’ll be launching in about 30 minutes. Get your gear and go or you’re stuck here for another two days.”

“On my way, sir,” I say and hang up. I jog to my stateroom, grab my bag and head to the flight deck. I walk over to the COD, salute the bridge and National Ensign as I board the COD to go back to The States.

A crew member is helping a scared-looking tech rep get buckled up. When he’s done, I ask him, “What’s our destination?”

“P’cola sir” he replies

Can you ask the pilot to check for any MAC flights that can get me close to New York City? I had a death in the family and need to get there ASAP.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, sir. I’ll ask.”

“Thanks, Petty Officer,” I say and close my eyes. Suddenly I’m thrown back against the bulkhead as the bird was thrown into the sky. Like most pilots, I feel helpless unless I’m at the controls of the aircraft. I feel even more helpless knowing I’m hundreds of miles from those I love when they need me most. The tears well up and a sob escapes my lips taking all the anguish I feel in my soul. As I’m about to begin to completely break down, I see the co-pilot walking back to me. I stifle my tears because I don’t want to show weakness in front of a fellow naval aviator.

As the co-pilot approaches, I see that she’s a female. I rub my eyes as if I’m tired, to hide the tears welling up. She squats down next to me and quietly says, “Mackie over there tells us you had a death in the family.”

I nod at her, not trusting my voice. “The Pilot and I as well as the rest of the flight crew want to offer our condolences, and offer any assistance we can. We tried to get you on a MAC flight but that’s a no-go.”

I start to thank her, when she continues, “So, anyway the pilot told me that he expects a warning light as we get into the airspace near JFK and he’ll need to do a precautionary landing. We can let you disembark while we check the aircraft.”

I smile appreciatively as she pats me on my shoulder and whispers, “If you do feel the need to cry, there’s more privacy in the aft compartment,” she returns to the cockpit, and I make myself a promise to never make fun of the truck drivers again.

I shake myself from my reverie, we roll off the active runway to a maintenance area. I unfasten my seatbelt and grab my bag. I make my way off the plane and into the terminal, making my way through the airport until I find a car rental counter. I drive up Grand Central Parkway into the City and take MLK to Park Ave. Seeing the familiar buildings I began to have flashbacks to dating my late wife. I drove past the deli where we met, the restaurant where I proposed, and finally reached the skyscraper where my in-laws owned the penthouse. I pulled up to the curb, amazed it was empty, and waved to Hank, the long-time doorman. He recognized me immediately.

“Commander, I am so sorry about Mrs. Gemoules. She was a great lady.” I put my hand on his shoulder and nodded my thanks. “Rachel is in the penthouse.” as he led me inside and used his pass key to send me up the private elevator.

When the elevator doors open my wife was standing in the foyer with her back to me. I froze in utter shock as my mind raced to try to figure out what was going on.

“What is it now Hank?” she asked without turning around, “More flowers from people who don’t give a damn about mom or me, they just hope the stupid little girl will sell them the company, cheap! Throw them out with the others.” Her voice cut me like a knife. It wasn’t my wife, it was Rachel, my daughter. She turned around when she didn’t get a response, and I was thrown back twenty years. Rachel had grown to look exactly like her mother. I was suddenly eighteen again and arriving for my first date with the beautiful rich girl I met while slinging overpriced pastrami on rye to the rich and famous.

“Well, well, well, The great naval hero! He gets medals from the President but doesn’t send a fucking postcard to his family. What are you doing here?” she hissed at me, her eyes narrowing in anger, her lips curling in disgust. “I thought mom dying was the worst thing to ever happen in my life, now you,” she snarled that word, “decide to show up after seven fucking years. Get the fuck out! I never want to see you again!”

“But Ray-Ray ... Ray-Ray... , “ I said in shock at her reaction.

“DON’T CALL ME THAT! MY DADDY called me that. My daddy who always came home. My daddy who sent me gifts and letters from every port he visited. My daddy who called me every week. My daddy who always sent me birthday and Christmas presents. My daddy who always made me feel like the most special princess in the world. Even when mom came home and told me ‘you’ll never see your father again,’ I didn’t believe her. I waited for you. FOR YEARS I waited for you to call, or write, or come home. YOU NEVER DID!!” she screamed, “You aren’t my daddy. I don’t need you anymore. Go away and never come back.” she said coldly as she turned away from me, her body shuddering as she was silently sobbed.

I stood there with no idea what to do, or say to comfort her. I had trouble believing my late wife had been so cruel that she let Rachel believe that I had abandoned her. Now she was dead, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell Rachel the truth. I stood there furious at Allyson and ashamed that I didn’t try harder to stay in Rachel’s life.

The elevator dinged and she simply said thank you for leaving. I looked at the elevator, to see who was arriving since I hadn’t pressed the button to call for it. When the doors opened, Hank was standing there. “Miss Rachel, I know asked to be left alone, but this seems to be very important, I think you should look at it right away.”

Rachel turns around ignoring me. As Hank hands her a box I am intimately familiar with, having mailed it to her three or four times over the last year. She takes the box and says “Thank you, Hank. While your up here, would you mind taking out the trash,” as she points to me.

“Of course, Miss Rachel, but I have reason to believe there’s some time-sensitive documents in that box, things you need to look at today.” as he takes my arm and guides me into the elevator.

As we descend to the lobby Hank tells me, “Wait in the lobby. Let her come to you when she’s ready.” I grab a newspaper from a stand just outside the lobby and sit there staring at the funny pages, not really seeing them. Almost two hours later, Rachel bursts out the elevator and yells “Hank! Hank! Do you know where my daddy went?”

Hank simply points at me, and I drop the paper to the floor. Rachel runs over to me and jumps into my lap like she was still 11. “Daddy, daddy” she starts crying as she covers my face in kisses like she used to. “Daddy I ‘m so sorry I was soooo mean to you. Can you forgive me for being so mean? I should’ve known that my wonderful, my special, my handsome daddy would never forget about his little Ray-Ray.” She had even started talking like she was eleven again.

I pull my little girl close to me, hug her, and start crying. She kisses away my tears just like I did when she was little and skinned her knee. We sit there and hold each other crying for God knows how long. When we finally stop sobbing, she takes my hand and leads me to the elevator, saying “ I was scared you had left, and I would never see you again. After all, a little girl needs her daddy.” When we get back to the penthouse I see my letters and cards strewn about the foyer, with the gifts all neatly placed on the sideboard. The envelopes were stacked in a neat pile on the floor. “Daddy, why did mommy send all my letters back to you?”

I took her hand as the tears welled up in my eyes, “I got hurt while on a mission, and she was scared I would be killed. So she told me to leave the Navy or I would lose her. I thought she was scared and would get over it soon. I never thought she would keep us apart. I kept writing and calling hoping to reach you. Whenever I came to NY, I would come to visit and you were always out of town.”

Ray-Ray said, “My daddy had a boo-boo and I couldn’t kiss it and make it better.” And pouted.

“This boo-boo shouldn’t be kissed by my little girl,” I said.

“But daddy I always kiss you’re boo-boos and you always kiss mine. Why can’t I kiss it?”

“Ray-Ray there are some places that daughters aren’t supposed to kiss their daddy’s,” I tell her.

“But daddy you’ll never get better if I don’t kiss your boo-boo.”

As always, I give in to my little Ray-Ray, “You have to be very careful when you kiss this boo boo,” I tell her as I lift her off my lap and stand up. I turn away from her and undo my pants. I lower them until the divot in my upper thigh is visible. I hold my pants up covering as much of my groin as I could.

I turn to her my eyes on her face watching for her reaction. Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare as she sees the pit in my leg from my instrument panel exploding after that damn jarhead fired on me instead of the MIG that had entered the carrier’s exclusion zone. Rachel drops to her knees and leans in toward my thigh, her breath making my leg hairs flutter and sending shockwaves through my body. I remember the first time Ally pleasured me orally, it was in this room, on her knees. As Ray-Ray kisses my scar, I can feel the mast starting to rise. I step back and turn away so I can cover myself.

Ray-Ray looked up at me from her knees, “That looked painful daddy. I wish that I had been there to comfort you.”

“Me too honey.” I smile down at her.

“I have a boo-boo I need my daddy to kiss,” she says standing up.

“Where is my precious Ray-Ray hurt,” I ask concerned.

“It’s here, daddy,” she says pointing right to her left breast. My heart is broken because my mommy died. I need daddy to make it better.”

“I ... uhh, I don’t think I should kiss you there. Daddy’s shouldn’t kiss their baby girl’s breasts.” I say staring at her ripe luscious breasts, covered only by a shirt so thin, that I could easily see she was not wearing a brassiere.

“Daddy, you promised to always kiss all my boo-boos away. So kiss my broken heart daddy.” She says thrusting her chest toward me. Almost against my will I lean in and kiss her breast right on the erect nipple. The feeling was electric. My cock grew to full size, and I considered keeping my mouth there to suck on that beautifully perfect breast, but this was my daughter. Daddy’s aren’t supposed to think like that about their little girls, I reminded myself. She was acting just like the little girl I remember, not the budding flower of womanhood she looked like or the self-confident young lady she appeared to be when I first arrived.

I was confused by my feelings toward my daughter. I was beginning to feel lust for her, but I also felt just as protective as I was when she was my little girl. I broke our embrace and got up. I went and got my seabag and put it in the room my wife and I used when we stayed with our in-laws. I took a quick shower and changed out of my wrinkled uniform into some civvies, and went to find Ray-Ray. She was sitting on a barstool at the breakfast nook looking forlorn. “Daddy I miss mommy she says.”

“I do too honey,” I reply wrapping my arms around her.

She snuggles back into me and says “I don’t know what I will do without her. She was my world when you disappeared. I’m so glad your back daddy. We can make up for all those missed years.

“Me too honey,” I answer as I start to unconsciously stroke her breast. I hear my daughter moan in pleasure and I realize what I am doing. I step back, and try to lower the sexual tension that has arisen between us by asking “So where are nana and p pop”

“Oh daddy!” she cries “You don’t know. Nana had a stroke and died about the same time you were hurt, P-pop passed away in his sleep the night after we buried nana. I was all alone in the world until you came back.”

“Ray-Ray my baby. I didn’t know, I was never told, and I’m so sorry honey.” I blurt not knowing what else to say, feeling genuine sorrow that I wouldn’t ever see my in-laws again.

“So where is mommy now?” I ask.

“I don’t know. She was taken to Jamaica Hospital, and I didn’t know what to do from there.” She said as tears come to her eyes. I took her into my arms and held her as she sobbed over our loss. Her tears started dripping onto my chest and felt like fire. I held her tight not caring about the burning on my chest, which turned into burning in my loins.

She smiled through her tears and wiggled her hips feeling my shaft grow. “Ohhh, daddy. I’m so glad your boo-boo didn’t hurt anything important.”

I pulled back reminding myself that this was my daughter and I was not supposed to be thinking of bending her over the counter and fucking her sweet ass. “Don’t worry honey I’ll take care of all the arrangements. We’ll also have to talk about what to do with p pops company.”

“Okay, daddy. I knew I could count on my big, strong, handsome, heroic daddy take charge and make everything better.” She again hugs me tight and says “I wuv you, daddy.” And kisses me on my lips sliding her tongue into my mouth. I open my mouth and start to caress her tongue with my mouth. My hand slides down and grabs her ass cheek and squeezes it. We continue probing each other’s mouths for a minute, when I remember this is my daughter and push her away.

“What’s the matter, daddy?” She asks with a hurt look on her face. “Did I make you mad again? Do I need my daddy to spank me for being bad?” She looks at me, not with the look of a little girl, but of desire, of wanton lust.

“Uhh ... honey I’m just emotionally overwhelmed by all that’s happened in the last few days. I need time to think and...” I trail off. “I’m going to call the family lawyers and have them do whatever needed to make the arrangements. I tell Ray-Ray as I lift the receiver and dial.

“Gambini and Woods,”

“This is Commander Gemoules, the next of kin to Allyson Gemoules. I need to speak with Mr. Gambini.”